


Going To Set Himself On Fire

by FullOnLarrie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bartender Louis, Blow Jobs, Christmas Party, Drunk Harry, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Harry works in an office, M/M, One Shot, Smut, it's not really important to the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 14:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8894992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/pseuds/FullOnLarrie
Summary: One shot based on crazy, drunk Harry singing karaoke and trying to set himself on fire!





	

**Author's Note:**

> As always, the biggest thank you to [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com) for the super speedy beta!
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr!](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com)
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> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3, and send me a link so that I can include it in the author’s notes.**
> 
> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**

It'd been a long night of mixing drinks and carrying trays of tiny appetizers around the banquet hall for someone else’s party, and all Louis wants to do is go home, shower the sweat and layers of restaurant gunk off, and curl up on the couch with Harry—his boyfriend who's at his own office Christmas party. He reassured Louis that he should go ahead and work the shift he’d been scheduled that night, since he wasn’t likely to miss anything. “Most boring event of the year; crap food and no booze,” if Louis remembered correctly.  


‘Most boring event of the year’ Louis laughs to himself when Liam sends the short video of Harry scream-singing the wrong words to “Last Christmas” while trying to read the lyrics off his phone. Someone supplied the booze because Harry is clearly intoxicated in the video. As he pulls into their driveway, his phone rings. It’s Liam, their roommate and Harry’s co-worker.  


“What’s up, Lima?”  


“Hey, Louis! Merry Christmas!”  


“Christmas is next week, Li. What’s up?”  


“Are you coming to the party? There’s booze! The boss’ new boyfriend is so fun! There’s an open bar and all kinds of food and you should come.”  


“I can’t. I’m disgusting, Liam. I need a shower; pretty sure I have goat cheese mousse in my hair.”  


“Boooooo. Fine. See you later.”  


“Bye, Li.”  


Louis shivers as he hurries from his car and relaxes into the warmth of their apartment as soon as he closes the front door. Home. He tosses his keys and wallet onto the counter and heads for the bathroom. While the shower warms up, he quickly strips out of his work uniform and tosses it into the hamper. As he steps into the steamy water, he sighs and rolls his shoulders back. One of Harry’s massages would be the perfect way to end the day, but it’s not looking likely. He chuckles a little as he washes his hair and thinks about how much Harry had complained about having to attend the party. He actually considered calling out sick, but Liam convinced him to at least show up for an hour or so with the promise of buying him drinks at their favorite bar afterward. They won’t need the bar tonight. Drunk Harry is always fun, always hilarious, always a little bit crazy, and always endearing. When he’s had too much to drink, Louis feels torn between the urge to take care of him, protect him, and the urge to run the other way so he doesn’t get roped into the night’s shenanigans.  


He finishes his shower, dries, and goes to their bedroom to find some warm clothes to bundle up in. He pulls on pair of Harry’s old sweatpants that hang low around his hips, dragging on the floor as he walks, and an old purple hoodie that he swears Harry’s had since high school. Thick socks on his feet, he shuffles into the living room to wrap himself in the quilt they keep on the back of the couch. As he settles in to watch Netflix, his phone pings with a text and another video from Liam.  


_Louis come collect your boy. He’s sloppy drunk and trying to set himself on fire._  


In the video, Harry is dancing with their friend Alexa who is holding a champagne sparkler. Louis has to watch it four times before he realizes that Harry isn’t actually trying to eat her hand, but is trying to take a drag off her cigarette which is in the same hand as the sparkling bottle of champagne. If he sets himself on fire, he’s going to have to cut his hair even shorter. He says as much in a response to Liam before adding that he’s not collecting anyone, he’s busy lounging on the couch. He tosses his phone onto the coffee table and snuggles up under the blanket. He’s gone back and forth about joining their party, but is glad he’s decided to stay home and leave drunk Harry to party with his friends. He’s tired and it’s late.  


He gets one more video of Harry singing Spice Girls and he laughs when he realizes that Harry knows all of the words to “Two Become One,” but not to his favorite Christmas song.  


Louis opens his eyes in the darkness of the living room. The Netflix screen is wondering if he’s still watching and he feels around for the remote to turn it off when he hears them. Harry and Liam are whispering frantically by the front door.  


“Boys. I’m awake.” Mostly. “No need to whisper.” He stands up and drapes the quilt over the back of the couch, then approaches the two drunk boys like he’d approach a wild animal. Hands up, palms out, slowly moving forward. “Liam, thank you for making sure Harry didn’t set himself on fire.”  


Louis wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and calls a goodnight to Liam as he leads Harry toward their bedroom. “Did you have fun tonight, baby?”  


“Yeah, it was fun. I missed you. I was wrong. There was a lot of alcohol and I drank it.” He gives Louis a shit-eating grin and flops backwards onto their bed. “Undress me. I’m too. I can’t. Buttons and zippers are hard.” He tries to kick off his boots, but Louis catches his feet and traps them against his chest.  


“Stop kicking. You’re going to kick me in the face.” He tugs the boots off and tosses them into the closet. “You’re really drunk, huh?”  


“I am.” Harry snorts. “Really.” He giggles. “Drunk.”  


“Oh, well. Maybe tomorrow then.” Louis unzips Harry’s jeans and peels them off of his legs, then runs his hands up and down Harry’s thighs before climbing over him and straddling his hips. “Stop wiggling. I have to unbutton your shirt.” Starting at the bottom, he works his way up until the shirt is undone and slips to the side. “I think you’re going to have to sit up to get this off your arms.”  


“Can you take off my underwear. I need to be free.” Harry mumbles as he wriggles his arms free of his sleeves. Louis balls up the shirt and tosses it onto the floor, then pulls Harry’s briefs off. “Tomorrow what?”  


Louis tugs his sweatshirt over his head, but leaves the sweatpants on. “Huh?”  


“You said maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow what?” They slip under the blankets and snuggle close, face-to-face; Louis can smell the vodka clinging to his breath. Their legs tangle together. Louis in his sweatpants and Harry completely naked; Harry always makes fun of him, but he gets cold easily.  


“Oh, we can fuck tomorrow. No big deal.” Louis leans forward and rubs their noses together. “I love you, baby. Good night.”  


“Nope.”  


“What?”  


“Nope. Not good night. Not going to sleep. Let’s fuck.”  


“Harry, you’re totally wasted. You probably can’t get it up anyway.”  


“Nope. Totally can. Just, um, give me a second.” He pulls the blanket over his head and crawls down to the foot of the bed. Louis thinks for a second that Harry is going to keep going and crawl off and fall onto the floor, but he doesn’t. He settles down with his knees on either side of Louis’ legs, slides his hands up his thighs, grabs the waistband of Louis’ sweats and unceremoniously yanks them down to mid-thigh, revealing a completely uninterested cock.  


Louis lifts the edge of the blanket and peers underneath. “You are so drunk, baby. Good luck. Don’t bite me and don’t pass out with my dick in your mouth.”  


Harry snorts and presses his face into Louis’ hip. “Shhhh…I have to concentrate.” He slurps the head of Louis’ penis into his mouth and begins to suck. Louis is about as far from hard as a person can be, but he relaxes back into the pillow and lets Harry have his way.  


It’s not long before Louis starts to thicken up and then is fully hard and fighting not to thrust up into Harry’s mouth. How can a sloppy drunk person give such amazing head? It’s unreal. “Baby. Baby. Harry!” Harry pulls off with a pop and slithers his way up Louis’ body, kissing Louis’ belly, stopping to lick his nipples and blow air on them, nibbling along Louis’ tattooed collarbone, up his neck to his ear.  


“Hi.” He grinds down and circles his hips bringing his heavy erection alongside Louis’ and sliding them together. “Told you I could get it up.”  


“You did tell me.” Louis manages to say between moans. He slides his hands down Harry’s back to his ass and grabs on. “Love your ass, baby. You still want to fuck?”  


Harry grunts, continuing to thrust against Louis’ hip. Louis’ legs are trapped with his sweatpants halfway down his thighs, his naked boyfriend pinning him down, panting against his neck. “No, won’t last. Fuck. I love you.” The heat between them is causing them to sweat, making the slide easier. Louis tries to get a hand between their bodies, wants to wrap his fingers around them, but Harry is pressing so tight that he can’t. So he meets him thrust for thrust in a frantic non-rhythm, pulling him closer. There’s not much he can do from where he lies underneath Harry. He’s giving off heat like a furnace; it’s almost suffocating. Louis moans against Harry’s neck and scratches his nails up and down Harry’s back. He’s not sure he can come like this, but he can tell that Harry’s close so he does what he can to bring him off. Biting at his earlobe and neck. Whispering every dirty thing he can think of into his ear.  


“You’re so hot like this, baby. I love it when you’re so desperate for me. Can’t even let me finger you ‘cause you just wanna come. So fucking gorgeous. I swear. Come on. Come, baby.”  


And he does. A whine escapes his throat as he rolls his hips once, twice more, and comes on Louis’ belly, the head of his cock smears it around as he continues to thrust his way through his orgasm, until his arms give out and he sinks down on top of Louis, muttering against his temple. “Love you. Love you so much.”  


“Love you, too, baby. Now get off of me or get me off. One or the other.” He shoves at Harry’s side until he rolls over and props himself up on an elbow.  


“Can you do it? Can I watch you?” He’s so eager and his face is pink and flushed as he tries to catch his breath.  


Without answering, Louis slips his hand down his belly, swirls his fingers in Harry’s come and uses it to wet his shaft. It’s not going to take long. He wraps his fingers around himself and pulls, squeezing at the top and twisting just the way he likes it. Watching Harry as Harry watches his hands. He reaches down with his other hand and rolls his balls in his palm and moans. It’s partly for show, but mostly because he feels so turned on when Harry watches him touch himself. It’s one of the reasons that he likes to finger himself before Harry fucks him, because the look on Harry’s face while he watches gets him so hot that he almost can’t stand it. He speeds up, working himself harder, chasing his orgasm, snapping his hips up and fucking into his own hand, the heat building quickly. His orgasm washes over him, spreading out from his belly, tingling down his arms and legs, as he comes into his fist.  


“Baby.” He opens his eyes to see Harry staring at the puddle of their mixed come on Louis’ belly. “Baby, hey. Love you.” Louis sits up and presses a quick kiss to Harry’s open lips, then kicks his sweatpants off the rest of the way until they end up bunched at the bottom of the sheet. He rolls off the bed and pads to the bathroom to clean himself up.  


Louis slips back under the blanket behind Harry and slings his arm around his waist, nuzzling into the back of his hair. “You smell like smoke. Please don’t try to set yourself on fire again.”  


“Shut up. I wasn’t trying to set myself on fire. I was… I wanted a drag off her cigarette because it was your brand. Smelled like you. Missed you. Love you.”  


Pulling Harry closer so his back is pressed against Louis’ chest, he whispers, “Love you, baby. Missed you too.” He kisses along the back of Harry’s neck and shoulder, then trails his hand along his chest, settling it right above Harry’s heart so he can feel it slow down as he drifts off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please comment and/or leave kudos <3!
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> Come say hi on [Tumblr!](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com)
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> If you liked this fic, please reblog [this Tumblr post](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com/post/154644091830/going-to-set-himself-on-fire) :)


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